Curtains
by Via Coco
Summary: That couldn't of happened. Could it? Why would Stan's parents do nothing, when what happened was right in front of their faces! And Stan... after all these years. Stan's gay? Awkward Situation type of story :D oneshot. StanxKyle. Enjoy.


**Authors Note:** Via Coco hereee. This is a short story that I created in my head yesterday night, and I just couldn't stop thinking about it. Don't know if anybody had the same idea, but oh well. But yeah, read a book and I've been inspired with more vocabulary and other types of expressions that I can use in stories. Reading through Skeptical Procedure, and compare it to many popular stories on here, my english really just sucks.So yeah. Going to try to write out this story with much more expressive writing. So yeah, this story created in my head is suppose to be an awkward situation. And it's suppose to be a situation that isn't really suppose to be understandable and yeah.  
**Warning:** Contains boy love, Stan and Kyle (Their about twelve in this story). Naughty language, too kiddies.  
**Disclaimer: **Characters bellow to Trey Park and Matt Stone.  
**Edit: **I corrected some sentences, and I wanted to add more depth to the smack scene xD I felt like I just left it there like 'meh'. Also thanks to TickleMePinkToMyStomach for letting me correct the chicken situation x3 I might continue, but I'm afraid that I'll be so comfortable with the story that I think I can just do anything with the characters and you'll love it then it'll go ka-poot and yeah.  
**To Hamster Fan: **Well you never know x3 Kyle didn't exactly stop it to the point where he was just shouting at Stan's face, and he did point out that he thought he could be turning gay from this experience. I dunno. xD

LOL I just learnt how to do this line thing. Whoopie. ;D

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**'Curtains'**

Plump, crispy, and a golden-brown texture. _Why am I analyzing a piece of chicken? _I thought to myself, stabbing my fork into the meaty object. I was eating with the Marsh's. Again. Opposite me sat Mrs. Marsh, and beside her Mr. Marsh. To the left, which was diagonal of me, was his sister. That freak whose probably not thinking about what she's doing, her mouth parted slightly, showing her moist tongue as she watches Jesse McCartney swoon the crowd on the TV in the other room. The sound playing low in there. Was she feeling a satisfying sensation? Was she getting turned on starring into that screen? I don't know. But if her slobber gets one drop on my plate I will spit at her face. Such a Cartman thing, but she's worthy of having my spit on her face anyways.

Shit. I hate eating with the them. As nice as they are (besides Shelly) I can't stress enough about how pressured I feel eating with them. They watch me eat. They smile at me when I glance at them watching me eat. It's disturbing. These little scenes where I look at them, they smile watching me, I nod as a gesture of, I dunno I guess I'm saying 'okay?', and then I look down at my food. Poke it a little bit, take a bite then look up again and the whole thing goes again, smile, nod, look down. The whole system of eating with them is a long, pointless and stupid situation.

But then there's Stan, sitting beside me. He eats normal, thankfully. If I glance at him, he just continues eating normally. Its nice. Best friends help at bad situations. But then again, I'm just overreacting at this small insignificant situation. It's only me who's arguing in my head, it's only me who finds this system terribly annoying, and Stan is the only thing around here to make me feel a little bit comfortable. I shrug off the situation at hand and just get back to eating the chicken I've been poking all this time.

The low sound on the TV in the living room, clashed with the heavy, red noises of cutlery hitting against each other. The parents talking amongst themselves, about completely stupid topics that they think of on the spot, just to try to break the ice, and continue with this isolated idea of having a lovely dinner with me. 'Oh, how was your work dear?' I can hear. A question, more of a cliché that is always brought up every single day with parents. Do they pat themselves on the back for asking that question? Pointless shit people, seriously.

"So..." Stan let out a confusing, long 'um' along with the ice break. I moved my head quickly towards him, as I could not take this weird atmosphere anymore and really needed to just interact with someone. "Youu- you liked the dinner?" He asked. This was strange. It was as if Stan only just met me for the first time and tried talking to me. Why was he stuttering? c'mon Stan, you dickface, only making this situation worse. He darted his eyes around at my face.

I furrowed my eyebrows as he did, but shook it off and answered, "Um, yeah, I guess it's the same as every mmgh!-" and with that very same, little, insensate second, Stan grabbed and wrapped his sweaty fingers at my wrists, pulled me towards him and pushed his mouth to mine. My elbows hitted at the wooden armchair, which made a big 'bump' noise and turned my arms numb. My first kiss in years. But this wasn't as I planned. And what the fuck, Stan's a fag? Shit! I watched his closed eyes close harder, pushing his lips deeper. I moaned in pain. His plan of attack was clumsy, so our noises squeezed against each other which caused a nagging, aching pain throughout my head and made me flush red._ What the fuck Stan, what the fuck._

But all I could do was sit there, I couldn't stop it. He just kept pushing in, and in. It was long, and awkward. Again, I let out a long, yet soft moan from the awful kiss. I wanted to cry for help. I imagined the situation in the perspective, where I could watch it from the ceiling down at us. It was sick. I glanced a couple of times at his parents and I could see they were frozen, just staring with awe. Why weren't they helping me if they could see I was obviously in pain? or at least just say something like _normal _human beings would.

Was this a good thing to them? or a bad thing. I don't know. All I know is that I couldn't breathe. Stan knows how to kiss, why is he kissing like _this_? Being forced into a kiss by your gay best friend is one thing, but I didn't want to _die_ like this. It was a sign of relief as I could see he was running out of air too. He then parted our lips, but he didn't pause to stare at me, he straight away looked at his parents, watched their expression. He glanced to and fro at his father and mother. _What is he doing. Is he trying to impress his parents? Starring at them with wanting eyes. Is this like his crowd that he is trying to entertain? Or is he trying to make a statement?_ I kept starring at my dear, stupid best friend. We both were huffing heavily and I tried to escape from his gripping hands as he was occupied with the critic his parents were giving him with that frozen stare they just kept on their face. He loosened, then un-gripped at my wrists which hurt from his thumbs rubbing, and massaging hard against them. I looked down at them and couldn't think of what to do. Should I run for it? or call my parents? or... fuck. I was just so confused, and in pain.

He then did it _again_. Pushed his lips against mine. _Again_. But this time correctly and I could feel now that he was trying to be more soft. But _what_ the hell is really happening here? His parents are doing completely nothing, his sister still had eyes on the screen, I mean this isn't normal! He then placed his wet hands on my face as if it were to be a compassionate gesture and closed his eyes. I watched. I fucking _moaned_. What the fuck_ am I doing_, my hands are free and I could really just punch him right now but, _why_? _What am I doing_? He then slowly parted our lips and we watched each other huff heavily into each others face, with our lips still technically together from the strand of spit that hung from our bottom lip. His hands still held on to my face.

But then I finally got out of this confusion. I finally got the courage. Furrowing my eyebrows, I raised my hand then in a split second slapped him right across the face, making his face turn to the right. I hit him so hard, I could even feel my palm and finger tips sizzle with soreness. I gasped lightly, or could I still be huffing from the long kiss? I don't know. But I watched as Stan paused for a second with his face still to the right, he then let his face turn towards me with the same expression. I gripped onto the armchair and looked down to my legs. Waiting for either the angry reaction from Stan, or from his parents.

But... there wasn't anything. There wasn't anything for quite a while. I looked up to see everything back to... normal? Stan was eating normally, and his parents and sister too. "...What?" I asked myself, I guess. The noise of cutlery, and the music from the living room became the focus of my ears again. I blinked in utter mortification. I really just didn't know what happened. Or what was going on. But it seemed that everything was just like before.

"We just got our drapes put up today, what do you think of them Kyle?" Stan's mother asked. I shook my head into reality and looked at them. It was a mucky olive color, with an old nineteen fifties style of pattern. I thought it looked sick. Just like the whole scene that could of just been my imagination. Maybe_ I_ was turning gay. "It's lovely." I answered, curling my lips into a cheesy fake smile. She instantly nodded. The common reaction that I never knew what it meant. I examined everybody again, no sign of awkwardness with any of them. I guess I'll never know if what happened was true or just my imagination. But it felt so real though. Maybe tomorrow if I see bruises on my wrist then I'll really know. I sighed lightly looking down at the chicken on my plate again. Eating with the Marsh's really does suck ass.

**The End. I think.  
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**Note:** Whoo! that was a long one ;D so yeah, I hope the story was to your liking. Sorry if I used any bad punctuation anywhere. So yeah, that's it! Reviews, comments, rants will be mighty love ;3 so yes. Until next time!

- Via Coco


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